I keep laying down pieces of my soul at your headstone
by onlygoodideas
Summary: You keep visiting his grave, even though it never makes you feel better. TDDK Week Day 1


**(A/N) This was written for TodoDeku week Day 1. The prompt was "Memories warm you up from the inside. But they also tear you apart." Haruki Murakami, Kafka on the Shore**

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The worst days to visit are the ones when the weather is nice, the sun is shining, the birds are singing. That's when it feels the most surreal, like Shouto has walked into the wrong reality. Because graveyards shouldn't be bright, cheery places. It should always be raining here.

He's brought flowers. He always brings something, if for no other reason than it gives his hands something to twist around as he walks along the row of tombstones. Midoriya's is the one on the end, closest to the high stone wall that circles the cemetery. It's so small, he thinks. It's just an average plot of land, and though the headstone is a beautiful marble, words gilded and gold, it seems so wildly inadequate to contain everything that Izuku once was. He should have a tower, a statue, some grand symbol to mark the resting place of one of the greatest men to ever live. At the very least it would be nice to have a mausoleum, so that Shouto could break down in private.

And he does break down. Every time, he finds himself weeping over that plot of land, activating his Quirk so that one half of his tears sizzle away and the other half freeze in place, so he won't have tear tracks running down his face.

"I brought you something, 'Zuku," he whispers, falling to his knees beside the grave. He's going to smear dirt across his pants, but he doesn't care. He's closer to him like this, closer to the man buried six feet under.

There's birdsong, interrupting his despair. How cruel, to be forcefully reminded that life goes on uninterrupted for everyone else in the world. Deku dying should have been the end of the world. At least that way, Shouto wouldn't have to keep on living afterwards.

"Do you remember the first time you told me you loved me?" Shouto asks the ground. "We were seventeen, and I thought you were joking. I thought, 'That's ridiculous, why would someone this wonderful ever fall in love with me?' And you got so mad when I tried to brush it off, you grabbed me by the front of my shirt and kissed me."

It's one of his fondest memories, and he tells it to the graveside like a secret. Sometimes he wishes he could bury his memories in the dirt, leave them there for the next time he feels like mourning. But that's not the way it works. He comes to the graveside to lament, but it doesn't stop when he leaves. He carries the sorrow with him everywhere, every day and every step.

"You made me a better person," he tells the ground, "but sometimes I wish I hadn't met you. Then maybe I wouldn't feel this way. Maybe I wouldn't realize I'd spent most of my life living in the dark."

The thought is like a blade clenched in his fist, hurting him harder the tighter he clings to it. Because he doesn't actually wish that, wouldn't trade away his memories of Midoriya for anything. They're all he has left now.

The bouquet from his last visit is still there, withered and dropping petals. Who's stupid idea was it, to first start bringing flowers to graves? To plant reminders everywhere that anything beautiful lasts only a short while?

Angrily, he snatches it up with his left hand, setting it ablaze. It's the perfect tinder, flaring hot and white in his hand. Now it's shedding sparks instead of petals, a beautiful, brief pinprick of light that fades to nothing. He's left with a fistful of ashes. He lets them trickle through his white-knuckled grip, watching the cascade of gray filter out.

"I just wish you had told me you were going to go," he says. "If I had known, I would have had a chance to thank you properly for everything you gave me."

The grave stares back, silent.

"Thank you," he whispers to the grave. "That's all I really wanted to say. Thank you for loving me."

The grave is never going to respond. It's never going to give anything back, and it's never going to take anything away. So Shouto turns, still shouldering everything he came in with, the regrets and the grief and the memories good and bad, and he takes it all with him back into the world.

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**(A/N) If you liked this, check out my other works, or follow me on social media for future stories!**

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